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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23628823">cura te ipsum</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyMD/pseuds/LadyMD'>LadyMD</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Medicus [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Coronavirus, Established Relationship, F/M, Hospital Setting, Inspired by Real Events, Married Jonsa, PPEs, Quarantine, frontliners, hospital drama, social distancing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 18:27:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,680</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23628823</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyMD/pseuds/LadyMD</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>1 year after their wedding and having just settled down with their new life at White Harbor and at New Castle Presbyterian Hospital, a Pandemic has struck Westeros. Sansa and Jon face another challenge in their relationship, and this time, they face a war, 14 days at a time, as they race to save lives - including their own.</p><p>(Part of the Medicus series, but may read as a stand alone).</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jon Snow/Sansa Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Medicus [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/686760</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>43</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>cura te ipsum</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I'm on my 11/14 days quarantine and I had to do something to quell the anxiety of being alone in my condo. I'm asymptomatic and ready to get back out there after this mandatory quarantine, but for now...<br/>This is a tribute to all the frontliners out there who turn to fanfiction for sanity breaks<br/>*Medical terms at the end</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>                                </p><p> </p><p>Very little surprised Dr. Jon Snow nowadays. </p><p>Years of being a Trauma Surgeon showed him that anything could turn into an accident. The tiniest thing, the most insignificant of moments--those things could easily tip the balance between life and death. </p><p>Needless to say, almost nothing fazed him anymore. </p><p>And with that, there were even fewer things that could terrify him. </p><p>But as he finished extracting the <em>ABG</em> from one patient (with great difficulty at that what with the added protocol of using double gloves), he couldn't help but step back and take a look at the scene before him. </p><p>He had come to Eastwatch By The Sea Veterans Memorial Medical Center to help do an <em>E-vac</em> of a suspected patient who was also a complicated trauma patient and bring him to New Castle Presbyterian for better care, but seeing the bedlam, he couldn't help but do the final bloodwork himself and re-stabilize the patient prior to moving him. </p><p>In front of him, a sea of white blurs and red angry monitors beeping away, his colleagues, armed in heavy, uncomfortable, layers of protection - it was like seeing a badly done space opera. </p><p><em>If the astronauts are here, this isn't the planet we know anymore. </em> </p><p>Sirens upon sirens could still be heard signaling the onslaught of ambulances.</p><p>
  <em>As if the floor wasn't already packed.</em>
</p><p>Everywhere he looked, a patient was there. They were out of beds, out of waiting chairs, and pretty soon, they would run out of manpower. </p><p>It was getting harder to breathe. </p><p>He wasn't sure if it was because of his respirator, the triple layers, or something else. </p><p>In all his years of practice, all the <em>code blues, code oranges, code blacks, </em>he experienced--none of it could compare to what he was witnessing.</p><p>
  <em>Was there even a code for a pandemic?</em>
</p><p>For the first time in a long time, Jon Snow felt fear. </p><p>But it was only the beginning. </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Only one more week of self-isolation and a negative swab and he'll be free. As mandated, due to his most recent encounter with a suspected-turned-positive patient, he had to follow protocol. He was eager to return home from the quarantine facility that housed healthcare workers.</p><p>And more importantly, come home to his wife. </p><p>He was never more grateful (albeit a little selfish) that Sansa, being pregnant (their first!), was finally allowed to take her leave as soon as the mandatory lockdown yesterday was imposed and NCPH was proclaimed a referral center. Though in his opinion, she should've done so much earlier. Even earlier than his own self quarantine. </p><p>Nevertheless, he hovered over her even from far away, noting that today would be her 1st day since she last stepped in the hospital, and she was fine. </p><p>He was about to call her when his phone rang. </p><p>He smiled when he saw it was Sansa calling.</p><p>"Hey sweetheart, I was just about to call--"</p><p>
  <em>"Jon."</em>
</p><p>Jon stopped at once, his thoughts and, by the feel of it, his heart at the tone of her voice. He shook it off and tried to quell the immediate panic that was rising but his throat was already drying up and his chest started tightening. "Sansa, tell me."</p><p>From the tremble in her voice, Jon knew it was bad. </p><p>No.</p><p>The next words that came from Sansa was worse. </p><p>Jon felt his knees give way as he barely sat back down the bed while he listened.</p><p>
  <em>"I just got the call. They want to admit me."</em>
</p><p>Jon swallowed and was battling from getting up and running post haste to her but he couldn't feel his legs - his body - he couldn't understand it.</p><p>It felt like he was underwater and he couldn't breathe.</p><p>He could barely make out Sansa's words even though he was listening to her every word carefully. </p><p>
  <em>It can't be. </em>
</p><p>"They're admitting PUIs now? Even asymptomatic--" </p><p>
  <em>"Jon."</em>
</p><p>He shook his head, cutting her off with a litany of <em>Nos. </em></p><p>"No, no--wait. I just spoke to you last night. It's probably just an over precaution--"</p><p>
  <em>"Jon!"</em>
</p><p>Jon shut up at once.</p><p>If he hadn't lost his mind earlier, he was losing it now especially at the sound of Sansa's small hitch of breath. </p><p><em>"Jon...I think I have it," </em>her voice trembled at the end and just like that Jon's world seemed to shatter. </p><p>His eyes were wet, his chest was tight, his breathing erratic. But just like that, his anguish shifted to anger.</p><p>"How can you have it? You were never in contact with any one of them! Not even the suspected ones!" </p><p>And then as Sansa started to tearfully explain, Jon slid to the floor, and further under water, he felt. </p><p>But the more he got the picture, the faster he resurfaced and in place of the anger he felt earlier was white hot <em>rage.</em></p><p>The last patient she operated on turned out positive.</p><p>They only found out when they found a common link through the contact tracing of several hospital staff who were under investigation and two of them were now in critical condition. All in the span of ten days--and all of them came had been involved in the emergency craniectomy she performed. </p><p>Several more who were traced contacts were now on imposed quarantine and close surveillance. </p><p>And since the whole OR complex was compromised, all the cutting services were now crippled.</p><p>All because the patient's family <em>lied. </em></p><p>
  <em>"The relatives withheld information." </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"She had come from Essos...they denied any travel history." </em>
</p><p>Jon was livid.</p><p>Someone was going to <em>pay.</em> </p><p>
  <em>"Dr. Theomore is in critical condition--and he was barely there, he just wanted to observe the procedure..." </em>
</p><p>Jon didn't know how hard he was clenching his fists. He couldn't talk, couldn't see clearly, couldn't move.</p><p>
  <em>"Jon, I'm...I'm scared."</em>
</p><p>That was all it took for Jon to get it together. His wife was scared and vulnerable and she needed him, <em>for fuck's sake.</em></p><p>He mustered all the calm he could get despite his hand still trembling. "You might not have it. You're fine. You don't have symptoms. You only have a few more days left of observation."</p><p>Sansa was sobbing now. <em>"I was hopeful. I only have four more days to go and last night I was truly fine...but this morning... Jon, I have a fever. Nothing else but, I'm still running one."</em></p><p>Jon shot up and started for the door, his luggage be damned. "I'm coming." It almost always starts with a fever, and from there it could only go one or the other. As mild as it can be, or intubated and downhill from there. When was the last time he kissed her? Held her? They had just held solid ground on their married life. They had just found out a month ago that she was eight weeks pregnant. Their baby's lungs was just starting to develop. <em>No.</em> He shouldn't be thinking like this. </p><p>
  <em>"NO!"</em>
</p><p>He paused, his brow twitching. "Sansa."</p><p>
  <em>"You can't. We can't. It's protocol, Jon. I can't put you at risk."</em>
</p><p>"Fuck the protocol!" Jon almost punched the wall. </p><p>Sansa hung up then and Jon was seeing red again but just as he was about to call her back, she switched to video call and at the sight of her distress all his rage melted and all he wanted to do was hold his wife and tell her everything will be okay.</p><p>He watched as Sansa wiped her eyes and took deep breaths, even tried to give a little smile. "Jon, you know we can't. A lot of people need you too."</p><p>Jon wanted to pull all his hair off. "But <em>you</em> need me." And Jon <em>needed </em>her. </p><p>She tilted her head up and closed her eyes before looking back at him, her hand moving to her barely visible bump. "Our baby needs us <em>both </em>to be strong right now. Just...apart. Just for a little while. We can do that...right, Jon?" </p><p>Jon struggled but mustered a smile though his hands were still shaking. </p><p>After a few steady breaths, he stood up, and with all the resolve he could gather, he called her name. "Sansa, you are the strongest person I know. You'll beat this, okay? You're going to pass this test with fucking rainbows at the end. And I'm here. I'll be just <em>here."</em></p><p>Sansa started crying again but she nodded and smiled tearfully. "I know you are." </p><p>"Sansa," he started tearing up again.</p><p>"Jon, come on. You're supposed to be comforting me here," she managed a laugh.</p><p>Jon took deep breaths and wrangled a smile. "Sorry. This fucking virus."</p><p>"Jon! No cursing in front of our unborn child's presence." </p><p>At the mention of their baby Jon lost it again and so did Sansa. </p><p>"Sansa, don't hesitate to call for help, okay? I <em>know </em>you. Anything, if you feel even the tiniest itch in your throat--you <em>tell </em>them. Do not wait until you are worse," he almost screamed at her. "It's not just you anymore." He looked at her stomach. <em>It's also for me. </em>He wanted to add. </p><p>Sansa nodded. "I know. I will. I promise." She touched her middle. </p><p>"You really have to try, Sansa. I can't--" he couldn't finish. He wouldn't. </p><p>It was Sansa's turn to reprimand him. "You do your best too, my love. No heroics. You follow every precaution. We can't both be sick. You sleep right, eat on time. You take <em>care </em>of yourself Jon. That is <em>your </em>primary duty." </p><p>He wanted to shout <em>HOW. </em>How in the seven fucking hells!</p><p>"Jon."</p><p>Jon swallowed and nodded. It was going to be hard. Incredibly hard. But he would try. </p><p>"It's not just me and our baby Jon. I may be out of the battle for now but, the world needs Dr. Snow too." </p><p><em>"Cura te ipsum," </em>he whispered.</p><p>Sansa smiled softly and nodded. "This time, that would have to be the first step."</p><p>
  <em>Cura te ipsum, Physician, heal thyself.</em>
</p><p>It was going to be a long and slow battle, but to save others, you have to ensure you are safe as well. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This was inspired by my experience and observations while working as a doctor for one of our country's covid referral center. It may not be applicable for other hospitals as our hospital on its own has its own set of protocols we follow. How was it? I actually wrote a bit more but I'm not sure if it's any good. Let me know if I should continue this. I've been given another week of rest so I have a bit more time. Thanks for reaching up to this point!</p><p>Some medical terms:<br/>*cura te ipsum - Physician, heal thyself!<br/>*ABG -  Arterial Blood Gas<br/>*E-vac - emergency evacuation<br/>*PPE - Personal Protective Equipment<br/>*PUI: person under investigation<br/>*Craniectomy: surgical procedure where a part of the skull is removed</p><p>Different hospitals have their own codes but most have the ff:<br/>Code blue: heart or respiration stops<br/>Code orange: mass casualty, disaster<br/>Code black: there are more patients than resouces</p></blockquote></div></div>
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